


Little Bitty Pretty One

by MossadHuntinDog



Series: The Family's Soul [8]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Birthday Party, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Growing Up, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Sweet Sixteen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:49:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MossadHuntinDog/pseuds/MossadHuntinDog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was so beautiful; like her mother. And to think that a few short hours ago, she had just celebrated her sweet sixteen...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Bitty Pretty One

_"Tell you a story, happened long time ago. A-little bitty pretty one, I've been watching you grow ..."_

Thurston Harris's familiar voice wafted from the speakers into the backyard, where the party was still going on, even though, technically, it had ended two hours earlier.

But the time didn't matter to the guests, many of them from the agency her parents worked at. She had been raised around them, growing up with the children of CIA and FBI agents alike- Agent Bishop's twin daughters, Chettie and Sadie, her best friends, had taken up residence at one of the tables outside and were happily engaging in some sort of conversation with Officer Cruz's kids, Ethan, Nick and Carrie. And somewhere in the darkness, Emily Fornell was making out with Agent Sack's son Zane- the screech and rustle of a skirt soon gave away their position, as Zane dashed across the dance floor, Agent Tobias Fornell hot on his heels, Emily holding tight to her father's wrist as she dug her heels in-literally- in a vain attempt to stop her father from killing her boyfriend. 

He chuckled as his gaze moved from the agent that seemed to be the thorn in his boss's side to the middle of the dance floor. The skirt of her dark pink party dress with the white bow at the waist and the rhinestones on the strapless sweetheart bodice belled out around her, and she stumbled only briefly in her white high heels before righting herself and returning to the dancing. Dark curls fell down her back- so similar to her mother's- and small wisps had come out of the half up party ponytail she wore, clinging to her face and neck. Her aunt had done her makeup, and the girl proudly work the gold Star of David her parents had given her prior to the party.

To think, she had just turned sixteen a few short hours ago....

"You are concentrating awfully hard on something when you should be _partying_ , Mr. McGee."

He glanced over his shoulder, a smile tugging at his lips as he laid eyes on his younger sister, in her teal dress and white heels, her hair pulled back in a loose French braid. "And why exactly should I be partying, Sarah?" 

"Because it's your baby girl's sweet sixteen." She replied, going to her brother and slipping her arm through his, wrapping her hand around her brother's bicep. Tim rolled his eyes. "Hey, she's made it to sixteen years without you and Ziva killing her. That's an accomplishment in and of itself."

"That our daughter turned sixteen?" 

She snorted softly. "No, that Ziva hasn't kill her." 

The siblings laughed softly over the running joke within the family- that, no matter how gruesome the murder or how deranged the killer, the former Mossad agent always managed to restrain herself, and yet, when it came to even a single utensil not being rinsed and placed in the dishwasher by aforementioned teenager, the Israeli-born assassin had to physically restrain herself to keep from killing her own daughter. Something both Irish-born McGee siblings found quite hilarious for no real reason. "But seriously Timmy, you should be proud of her."

"I am proud of her, Sarah." 

She shook her head. "No, I mean you should be out there dancing with her. She _is_ your daughter." 

"She's your daughter too."

Sarah shook her head quickly, pursing her lips. "No she's not. I brought her into this world, Timmy, but you and Ziva are the ones who've raised her for the last sixteen years. And you've done a fantastic job." She brushed a kiss to his cheek, before moving down the porch steps and joining the party. Tim took another sip of his drink; before the party had even begun, she'd asked to try a sip of champagne. Her parents had relented, so long as it was the only sip she had the entire night and for the next four years until she turned twenty-one. The girl had promised, even going so far as to pinky-swear. 

Now, he watched as his only child swing-danced with Gibbs on the dance floor; something she'd never done, but had been eager to learn, especially when she discovered the former Marine sniper used to swing dance with his first wife back when they were still dating. She looked absolutely beautiful-

"You should be out there _dancing_ with your _daughter_ , not letting Gibbs have all the fun, _Daddy_."

He rolled his eyes and smirked softly as his wife's silky lips brushed against his ear. "Why does everyone _insist_ on me celebrating the fact that my daughter just turned sixteen?" He pulled away, glancing at his wife briefly as he moved past her to sit on the porch swing, setting his glass on the small end table. His wife sighed, quickly joining him. 

The red spaghetti strap, knee-length party dress she wore accented her figure and olive complexion perfectly, and she'd swept her hair up into a high ponytail. With her makeup done to perfection, she looked exactly like her daughter- despite the fact that not a drop of _Da_ vid blood ran within the girl's veins. No, their precious Elizabeth was a beautiful blend of Irish and Mexican- for her biological father had been of Mexican descent. "Because she is your daughter, Tim, just as she is mine." Ziva replied, slipping her arm through his. "And we have been lucky enough to get through these sixteen years as her parents. We have watched her grow from the time she was born, we have shaped her into that... that beautiful who came downstairs in that pink party dress today and asked us if she looked okay." His wife stopped, taking a deep breath as it suddenly dawned on her. "Our baby girl just turned sixteen, didn't she, Tim?" 

He nodded. "Yeah, Ziva. She did." With a sigh, his wife curled into his side, suddenly subdued at the fact that their daughter was four years away from adulthood. 

Though the party was continuing on in the backyard, the back porch was quiet, unnoticed by all but the Team Leader, who stopped mid-swing-dance and nodded towards the back porch. The teenager turned, following his gaze, before he whispered softly to her and nudged her gently towards the steps. After a moment, the girl left the dance floor, wobbling unsteadily in her heels as she moved up the steps. Once on the landing, she removed her heels, and, shoes in hand, went to her parents. 

"Gibbs says you should be dancing, Daddy. You too, Mama." 

Tim chuckled softly as his wife snuggled closer to him. "Not right now, sweetheart. Neither Mama or I are up to dancing right now." 

The girl furrowed a brow, confused. "But it's a party- oh." She looked down at the necklace she wore; the gift from her parents. "You're... sad I turned sixteen?"

Ziva smiled gently at her daughter, sitting up and holding out a hand. "Daddy and I aren't sad, not really, we just... did not expect you to grow up so soon, that's all." The girl took her mother's hand as she settled between her parents on the swing. "One moment you were this tiny baby I rocked to sleep, and then we blinked and now you're sixteen. And pretty soon, you will be graduating high school and going to college and then graduating college and getting married and having babies of your own..." She sighed, playing with her daughter's hand. "And then one day you will blink, and you will be a grandmother yourself and Daddy and I will not be here any longer." Elizabeth watched as her mother swallowed thickly, trying hard not to cry. "It just... hit both Daddy and I today that... that soon you will no longer be living under our roof... that you are no longer our baby girl..." She reached up, brushing a stray strand off the girl's forehead before leaning over and pressing a kiss to her daughter's head. "Go. Go have fun, Rivka. We will be there shortly." 

"Ziva-"

After the girl left to rejoin the party, Ziva turned to her husband, gently patting him on the cheek. "Go." She nodded towards the back yard. "Go dance with your daughter, Tim." He kissed her softly before getting up and doing as told, and after taking a couple minutes to compose herself, Ziva got up, stopping on the landing to watch as Tim took Elizabeth into his arms. Sarah slinked up beside her sister-in-law, slipping her arm around the older woman's waist.

"You gonna be okay, Ziva?" The Israeli nodded.

"I will be okay, Sarah."

Out on the dance floor, Tim gently gripped his daughter's waist as they began to waltz. "I remember... dancing around the living room with you balanced on the tops of my shoes." Elizabeth giggled. "God, somehow, when I wasn't looking, you grew up." 

 The girl stumbled in her heels and fed up, she pulled away from her father, removing the offending footwear and tossing them towards the grass with a hint of annoyance. She turned back to her father, a hint of her mother's smile tugging at her lips. "I haven't grown up fully yet, Daddy." She then rose up on her toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she tucked herself against her father's chest, arms going around his shoulders, as she balanced herself on her tip toes on the tops of his shoes. Sighing softly, Tim wrapped his arms around her; the familiar verses of Bob Carlisle's  _Butterfly Kisses_ tugging at his heart. He pressed a firm kiss to her head, unable to keep the tears from gathering in his eyes as he danced with his daughter. 

_"Sweet sixteen today. She's looking like her mama a little more everyday. One part woman, the other part girl... To perfume and makeup from ribbons and curls._ _Trying her wings out in a great big world..."_


End file.
